22. The Dating Game

"So what's the point of this again?" Freddie Cross asked as Callie stepped into her fireplace with a handful of Floo powder.

"Visualization," she said. "I picture the Cruciatus Curse as flames going all throughout my body. The Floo flames help me to imagine pushing it off myself. Here, watch." Without stating a destination, she threw down the powder and the harmless green flames shot up around her. Making them move without the use of a wand took a great deal of concentration, but she was able to push them, slowly, about six inches from her body using only her mind.

When she'd accomplished this, she nixed the flames and stepped out of the fireplace. "It's going to help, I think, while I'm under the curse," she said. "A visual representation to focus on as I try to fight it."

It had been three weeks since Callie's first round of experiments, and she'd been back to Azkaban once more for a second round. That time had consisted of more practice with focusing on something other than the pain, and she'd brought along a clock to keep track of the time while she was under the curse. Kingsley had also agreed to bump it up to twenty-second intervals.

Presently, Cross remarked, "You said it was more manageable the last time."

"Yes, but no less painful," Callie said. "There's no getting used to it. Only..." she shrugged "...learning how to deal with it."

"I can't imagine what it's like. I've never been subjected to the curse, thankfully."

"I can give you an idea." Callie grabbed a candle and lit it, then brought it to Cross and said, "Hold your hand over the flame." He did as told, keeping his palm about four inches from the candle. "Closer," Callie ordered; he lowered his hand. "Closer..."

When he was about an inch away from the flame, he jerked his hand back and shook it. "Ssss," he hissed. "Bloody hell!"

As Callie extinguished the flame, she said, "Now imagine that, but all over your body, and you can't escape it."

He stared at her a moment, looking a bit stunned. "That's what it's like?" he asked. "That's what you've been having done to you, at your will?"

"Aye," she said.

There was a beat of silence, before he asked, "How?"

"Well... it helps to keep in mind that I'm not really burning. Of course, that doesn't make the pain any less real. But I either scream at the top of my lungs or bite down on a rag, and try to keep my eyes on that clock. At least then I know how much longer I have to endure it."

"That you can endure it at all is... inhuman." He paused, a thoughtful expression on his face, before he asked, "When are you going back?"

"Saturday," she replied. "My goal this time is to focus more on fighting it, rather than simply enduring it."

"Good luck to you," he said. "Tell me, how do you recover from a day of that?"

"I put on some music, have a cigar, and revel in my own bad-arsery."

"Hmph. Perhaps you'd like to change it up a bit."

"What do you mean?"

He hesitated, looking a tad sheepish, but said, "I was wondering if you'd like to join me for a night on the town."

Callie froze, even though she'd suspected for quite some time that the Muggle Studies teacher was keen on her. Snape's little warning flashed in her mind - "He's going to try and charm you. Don't let him."

Considering she'd been all about Ewan up until recently, she hadn't given much thought to how she would respond if Cross ended up asking her out. But he was a nice bloke, he had plenty of fascinating stories from his travels throughout the world, an agreeable personality, and he was easy on the eyes. With a slight smile curling her lip, she replied, "Are you asking me on a date?"

There was a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks as he said, "Unless you're not comfortable going out with a coworker. But how often do we really see each other?"

"That doesn't bother me," Callie said.

"Or... if you feel I'm too old for you."

That wasn't a problem either. He'd recently celebrated his thirty-first birthday. Ewan was thirty-two. Folding her arms, she replied, "Well, considering that females mature faster than males, you're knocked down a couple of years and I'm bumped up. Hence, we're practically the same age."

With a grin, he said, "Right. So as long as you're not opposed to spending an evening with a decrepit old man, would you like to go out with me, Professor Warbeck?" He paused, before adding in a cheeky tone, "On a date?"

She gave it a moment of thought and said, "I'd love to. But let's make it Sunday. I don't know how much fun I'm going to be following an afternoon of torture."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The two had agreed to keep their upcoming date under wraps, not wanting it to be the subject of gossip amongst the other teachers. Or the students. The only exception - on Callie's part, anyway - was Astoria, and the girl seemed even more excited about it than the potions mistress. Sunday came, and she showed up at Callie's quarters to help her get ready for her night out. Though Callie hadn't thought she needed any help, the girl had insisted on giving her a full makeup job. "I didn't think I was that ugly," Callie remarked, her eyes shut as Astoria applied shadow to her lids.

"Ugly has nothing to do with it," Astoria said. "We're enhancing your natural beauty. You're going on a date, it's a special occasion. You don't want to look the way you normally do."

"Why not? Apparently Cross likes the way I look."

"He'll like this better, trust me."

"What exactly are you doing to me?" Callie asked. "I don't want to come out looking like a clown."

"Oh, Merlin's beard! I told you, natural beauty. Not circus freak. I'm giving you bedroom eyes."

Callie furrowed her brow and said, "I don't wanna have bedroom eyes on a first date."

"Well, you're getting them. Now open up."

The girl picked up a bottle of mascara, and Callie said, "I can do that myself," taking it away. She looked in the mirror and found that Astoria's work was a lot darker and heavier than what Callie normally wore, but it was tasteful and well-done, so she didn't complain.

As she applied the mascara, Astoria asked, "So what do you two have planned anyway?"

"Drunken Shakespeare," Callie replied.

"What?"

The potions mistress explained, "William Shakespeare was a sixteenth-century muggle playwright. Very famous in their world. I heard about this place that does his plays, but one of the actors has to take five shots of whiskey before they go on. Then stumble through the early modern English and try to remember their lines."

Astoria considered it and said, "That sounds ridiculous."

"Well, I could use a bit of levity after what I've been doing the last four weeks."

When she finished her makeup, Astoria asked, "What are you wearing?"

Callie shrugged. "Pants and a nice top."

"Oh, hell!" the younger girl exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Once again, Professor Warbeck, you're going on a date."

"And?"

"And you wanna be a little bit sexy, don't you?"

"I'm already sexy," Callie declared. "What's your suggestion? A lace teddy and stiletto heels?"

"At least put on a skirt or a dress. You've got nice legs. Show them off, why don't you?"

"I don't do skirts or dresses. I don't even think I have one of either."

Astoria got a pensive look on her face, then summoned a garment bag. "You can borrow one of mine," she said, removing a short red number from the bag and holding it up.

"Of all colors," Callie said, "you give me hooker red?"

"It isn't 'hooker red,' it's wine," Astoria corrected. "And anyway, red is the color of romance."

Now Callie rolled hers eyes, but held out her hand and said, "Give it to me." She slipped it on - having to let it out in the bust and hips - and found that it was off-the-shoulder. Checking herself in the mirror, she thought it was too sexy, and would've preferred something a little more casual.

But Astoria said, "Now that's hot. You look like a girl."

The potions mistress checked herself once more, then went over to the wardrobe and pulled out a short, black blazer. It seemed to work with the dress, which on its own left her feeling too exposed. Turning to Astoria, she asked, "Well?"

Giving her girlfriend a once-over, she remarked, "I don't understand why everybody used to call you a slut. You're actually more of a prude."

"I'm not a prude," Callie said. "You gave me a sleeveless, off-the-shoulder dress. It's still cold outside."

"But that's what the handsome Muggle Studies professor is for - to keep you warm and cozy."

"Seriously, though, do they go together?"

Reluctantly, Astoria admitted, "Yes. But tell me you've got a pair of heels."

Callie gave her an exasperated look and declared, "I am not wearing heels so I can stumble and fall on my arse on a first date."

"But the whole look is going to be ruined otherwise! That dress isn't going to work with flats. Come on, now, I have something even you can manage." Summoning a pair, she said, "These are only two inches."

Yet Callie still felt unsteady in them, and they left her with a stiff, unnatural gait. "Yes, this is sexy," she said sarcastically.

Astoria checked the clock and replied, "You've still got fifteen minutes before you're supposed to meet him. Walk around a bit, get used to them." She still wasn't used to them by the time she left her quarters, and Astoria was practically yelling at her to "Just walk normally, for God's sake!"

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" Callie shot back, giving her girlfriend an irritated look.

As they walked down the corridor, Astoria said, "Now don't you dare let this night end without a kiss. I wanna know how he kisses." Like most of the girls at the castle, Astoria was smitten with the man. She'd demanded that Callie give her all the details upon her return, as if hoping to experience a date with her professor vicariously through the potions mistress. When they parted ways, she left Callie with a "Good luck," and a "Don't do anything that I wouldn't do." She paused, before adding, "And I wouldn't go to bed alone tonight," shooting Callie a wink.

The older girl shook her head to herself and made her way off, turning a corner and bumping into, of all people, Snape. In the short but spindly heels, she had almost been knocked off her feet, but he reached out and caught her by the arms.

"Sorry," he said, releasing her.

"No harm done," she replied. But inside she was thinking, God damn it. She had hoped to get out of the castle without him seeing her, as he was bound to take note of the dress and heels and full face of makeup, and then she'd have to explain.

Sure enough, he looked her over from head to toe, then asked - his voice a bit cold - "Heading out for the evening?"

She hesitated, but said, "Church meeting. You don't think this is too much, do you?"

He stared at her with a stony expression on his face, and she didn't bother trying to hide anything. Whatever he saw in her head seemed to put him at ease, however, because his face softened and his stiff posture relaxed. "Hmph," he smirked. "Easily influenced. I knew you'd fall for him."

She did a double take and said, "I haven't fallen for anyone. It's only our first date. Apparently this is the time I'm supposed to be playing the field and sowing my wild oats." She paused, before asking, "Does this bother you?"

"Why should it bother me?"

"Because you don't like him."

"I don't like anyone," he said. "You're going to end up a spinster if you choose your dates based on my opinions. At least this one is human." Callie rolled her eyes at that. Glancing at her bare legs, Snape cocked a brow and said, "You're wearing that in six degree weather?"

Feeling a bit self-conscious, she looked away from him and explained, "Astoria said I have nice legs and I should show them off."

"I'm sure Freddie will appreciate that," he said in a mocking tone.

"He doesn't care how I'm dressed. Stori was just curious to know how I'd look as a woman."

Snape got quiet for a moment, looking pensive, then remarked, "He's too old for you." Apparently that was all he had to say, as he walked past her towards his quarters.

Callie called out, "But at least he's human," before heading off to meet Cross.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Drunken Shakespeare - specifically, A Midsummer Night's Dream - turned out to be great fun. As with regular Shakespeare, Callie had difficulty following along with the sixteenth-century dialogue, which was made all the more confusing by the liquored-up gentleman playing Puck. However, watching him stumble around the stage, slurring his speech and knocking into the other performers - turning to his castmates at several points to ask, "What the fuck's the line, again?" - had given the potions mistress more laughs in three hours than she'd had in the last three years.

Unlike Puck, and most of the audience, Callie had stuck with a non-alcoholic refreshment, explaining to Cross her sobriety pact with George. When they left the theater, the Muggle Studies teacher asked, "By the way, how he's doing, the bloke in rehab you told me about?"

"Well, he left the treatment center after five days," she began. "Went out and got smashed, but then he went back the next morning, and he's been in there ever since. As long as he keeps at it, he'll be out a week from today."

"Good on him," Cross remarked. "You said his name was Weasley? George Weasley?"

"Aye," Callie confirmed.

"When I was a student, I knew a Bill Weasley. Any relation?"

"Yep, brother. One of many. Were you friends with him?"

"Not really; he was a couple of years below me. But I'd seen him around."

They wandered the streets of London, swapping stories about their time as students and their early childhoods in Muggle Town. "I'll never forget the day McGonagall came with my letter," Cross said, smiling at the memory. "This woman shows up and tells my mum that I'm a wizard, and that I've been accepted to a secret school in Scotland. My mum thought it was some sort of a kidnapping plot. She almost called the police."

Callie chuckled at the story and asked, "How did McGonagall convince her?"

"Well... she did a bit of magic to prove that it was real. Then she let me use her wand and taught me the Summoning Charm, right then and there, so mum could see what I was capable of. 'Course, she still wasn't keen on sending me off on my own, so Dumbledore stepped in and brought her to the castle. Showed her around, tried to set her mind at ease. She finally agreed to let me go, but she wanted to be close by, so she bought a small cottage in Dufftown."

"Does she still live there?" Callie asked.

"Nah. She moved back to England after I graduated."

It struck Callie that he hadn't mentioned a father, and she asked, hesitantly, "Is there a Mr. Cross?"

"There was," he replied. "But apparently he had a bit of magic in him, too. Disappeared one night when I was about three."

"Just like that?" Callie asked, giving him a sympathetic look.

Nodding his head, he said, "Not even a 'Dear Jane' letter. From what I've heard, he wasn't exactly a model husband. I don't remember anything about him."

"I'm sorry," Callie said.

With a shrug, he replied, "It's all right. Never really knew him, so... I can't miss him. Mum made up for it."

Between Cross's shitty father and Snape's, Callie was thanking God for her own dad, having never truly realized just how lucky she'd been to have him, even if only for fourteen years.

Callie looked into the various shops as they walked, and came to a stop when a curious sight caught her eye. Displayed in a window was a fancy-looking ouija board of shimmering gold and purple. "Eh," she said, pulling Cross along with her to check it out, "I had one of these when I was a young'un! Not nearly as pretty as this one."

"What is it?" Cross asked.

"A ouija board. It's supposed to bring messages from the metaphysical world. Spirits and such." She paused before adding, "It doesn't really do that; it's a muggle thing. They use it to try and contact the dead."

"Huh," Cross muttered. "Too bad they can't perceive ghosts. So many of them try to commune with the spirit world."

Callie looked up at the sign above the shop - Lady Octavia's Psychic Readings. "And some of them claim that they actually can. I'll bet Lady Octavia would have you believe she can predict the future as well."

Cross furrowed his brow in thought, looked around to make sure they couldn't be overheard, and whispered, "You think she's a witch?"

"Not an actual witch," Callie said. "Maybe the neo-pagan type. A real witch wouldn't believe in ouija boards." Gazing into the shop, she went on, "Probably a scam artist. You know the type - they prey on people looking for guidance or hoping to have life's biggest questions answered. And make their living off of spouting out a load of rubbish."

Cross studied her and remarked, "You're quite cynical. Maybe the world isn't entirely 'muggle versus magical.' Knowing all that we can do, you don't believe it's possible there might be certain metaphysical powers that muggles are capable of?"

She thought it over and replied, "Maybe. I can't say I know for sure. But I don't put much stock in divination when it comes to wizards and witches either."

"Ah, a skeptic," Cross said, grinning as he leaned against a wall. "A magical skeptic. What an oxymoron."

"Come on," she said. "You really think Trelawney, for example, is legitimate?"

"Maybe," he said, smirking at her. "Can't say I know for sure."

She smiled at his cheeky response, then stood in silence for a moment, debating with herself. Finally she said, "Let's go in. I wanna see what she has to say."

They entered the shop, setting off a jingling bell above the door. An older woman appeared, looking exactly how one would expect a self-proclaimed street psychic to look. Lots of gaudy jewelry, a brightly-colored, flowing dress, and a scarf on her head. Nodding to Callie and Cross, she greeted in a raspy but soothing voice, "Welcome, loves. I am Lady Octavia. What may I do for you this evening?"

You're a psychic, Callie thought. You shouldn't have to ask. But instead, she replied, "I was interested in having a reading done. How much is it?" Let's get right to the point.

"A fifteen minute session is twenty pounds," Octavia said. "Tell me, what sort of information are you looking to get out of this visit?"

Don't give her anything to work with. "Well..." Callie shrugged "...nothing in particular, just... maybe some idea of what's to come in the near future."

"I cannot provide tomorrow's winning lottery numbers, if that's what you have in mind."

Callie smiled and said, "No. I'm not here looking to score a profit." Unlike some. "I'm just wondering if you can give a hint of what I've got to look forward to."

The psychic eyed her up and down, then turned away while wiggling her finger in a "come with me" manner. Callie and Cross followed her to a room at the back of the shop, decorated with crystal balls, tarot cards, runestones, and various other pseudo-magical paraphernalia. "Please, sit," Octavia said. The professors did as told while she took her own seat. "Before we begin, I'd like you to take a moment to center yourself, Miss...?"

Callie intentionally gave it a couple of seconds before she responded. "Warbeck. Callie Warbeck."

"Miss Warbeck," Octavia echoed. She then handed Callie a piece of red jasper and said, "This will help you to ground and center. I suggest closing your eyes and breathing deeply."

Callie followed her instructions, and really did attempt to center and ground. This was actually a meditative technique that Madam Rochester had taught her in preparation for her Cruciatus experiments. However, the potions mistress was thinking it was good that Cross was with her, otherwise the psychic may have gone rummaging through her purse for information while her eyes were closed.

"Whenever you're ready," Octavia said, and Callie opened her eyes. She and Cross sat quietly as the woman pulled out all her tricks. A bit of palm reading, a tarot draw, consulting an astrology chart... She didn't say much as she worked, focusing intently on what she was doing. Callie glanced up at a clock on the wall and noted that half the fifteen minutes had passed.

She's going to try and stretch it out, she thought. Fifteen minutes for the reading. And another fifteen - and twenty more pounds - for the results.

But it was only another minute or so before Octavia pushed her supplies to the side and folded her hands on the table, looking Callie in the eye. "The two of you are a couple," she said, inclining her head towards Cross.

Obviously. I wouldn't be all dolled up for a friend or a brother. "Yes," Callie replied.

"Your romantic attachment is rather fresh," Octavia went on.

"This is our first date," the potions mistress informed her. Lucky guess.

"You're a dominant personality. Very sure of yourself. Overconfident, perhaps. Steady."

"'Steady?'" Callie echoed.

"It takes a lot to rattle you," the psychic explained. "But something is coming that's going to throw you for a loop. Shake you up a bit."

She didn't elaborate, so Callie asked, "What is it?"

"I don't know the specifics."

Of course you don't. Would five pounds clear it up for you? "How about a general idea? Does this involve a hooded man with a sickle?"

Sitting back with a sigh, the woman said, "There are... flickers of death. Allusions to it."

"'Allusions.' What does that mean?"

The woman looked thoughtful, before she asked, "Is there anyone you've lost who was close to you?"

Oh, lady... you don't know the half of it. "Yes?" Callie said, wondering where she was going with this.

"Then my guess would be that you've not properly grieved for them."

Callie thought about her father, Tonks, Lupin, Fred... everybody who'd been lost in the war. Of course she still had her moments of sadness, but she'd come to accept their deaths to the point where it didn't overwhelm her. Not all that often, at least.

And then she thought, Wait - why am I playing into this? Everybody has someone who's died. It's a generalization she can pull out of thin air and apply to anyone. Shaking her head as if to clear it, she said, "All right, what else?"

"Someone from your past is going to appear to you," Octavia said.

Again, Callie waited for her to explain. She did not. "Allow me to be blunt, Miss... Ma'am," Callie said. "This is all extremely vague."

"Most of my predictions are," she replied. "For example, I can tell someone that they're going to come into great fortune, but like I said, I cannot give them lottery numbers. I can't say if they're going to win a jackpot, or inherit an ailing uncle's estate, or if said fortune is even monetary. My visions are vague, but you asked for only an idea of what's to come, did you not?"

Bullshit artist, Callie thought, considering whether to ask for her money back.

After a moment of silence, the woman said, "I do have one more relatively distinct vision, if you'd like to hear of it."

What could it hurt? "Go on, then," Callie replied.

Octavia hesitated, folding her arms across her chest and looking away from Callie. She suddenly seemed a bit miffed. "I see you surrounded by a pink, glowing light," she said. "I assume it's your aura, but your dominant aura is yellow, bordering on gold. A pink aura represents love - innocent love. Platonic, such as that between friends or family." She paused, returning her eyes to the younger woman. "That's all I have to give you. I don't know the significance of the pink glow as it relates to you, specifically."

The psychic fell silent, and Callie asked, "Anything else?"

Checking her clock, she replied, "Not unless you'd like to hand over another twenty."

The fifteen minutes were up. Callie and Cross rose to their feet, and the former said in a clipped tone, "Thank you, Ma'am."

Octavia followed them out of the back room, and as they were about to leave the shop, she called out, "My predictions are vague, but they're very rarely wrong." Callie paused and turned to face her. "You'll see," she went on. "I am not a 'bullshit artist.'"

The potions mistress froze. But it could very well be a coincidence that the psychic happened to use the same term that Callie had thought of a few minutes prior. Octavia came over towards the window and picked up the purple and gold ouija board that had caught Callie's attention outside. Holding it out to the young skeptic, she said, "Fifty pounds. I made it by hand, it's a one-of-a-kind piece."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"She probably saw me eyeing it before we went in," Callie reasoned, as she and Cross walked from Hogsmeade to the castle.

"I didn't notice her inside while we were at the window," Cross countered. "Bloody hell, I'd have thought you were a lot more open-minded about this sort of thing."

"I did say it's possible," she reminded. "I'm just not a hundred percent convinced."

"Really now, why is clairvoyance so difficult for you to get behind? You're a witch, you've seen more fantastical things than that."

Callie thought it over and replied, "Because it's not all that fantastical. It's trickery. They look for clues, you know - body language, muscle tension, facial twitching... They start with something general, pick up on the clues, and go from there." A pause. "She knew you and I were on a date."

"Yeah?"

"Well, look at me, I'm in 'date' clothes. It wasn't that hard to figure out. And the predictions she made had no real substance. Someone from my past is going to show up. You know how likely it is that I could bump into an old classmate, for instance? So she'd be right. The glowing pink light? I could be standing under a neon sign one day and oh, look at that, right again!"

"And the thing that's going to throw you for a loop? What might that be?"

"Virtually anything. And the part about death and grieving? Who doesn't know someone that's died, who they were close to? I still cry about my father on occasion. So the next time I do so, will that fulfill her prediction?" Then it struck her. "Plus, she somehow saw me looking at the ouija board, and had to figure I had death on my mind, so she went with it."

Cross was grinning as he said, "You're a bit of a killjoy, ya know. I was rather entertained by the woman, even if it is a sham."

"'Killjoy,' you say?" Callie asked. "Tell that to her. She said my aura is yellow." Raising a brow, "Do I look like a yellow to you?"

"It is rather sunny and optimistic," he conceded. "I'd have guessed red. You've got fire in your veins." Callie came to a halt, and Cross turned to her with a puzzled expression, before a look of realization came over him. "'Flames going all throughout your body,'" he muttered, recalling her description of the Cruciatus Curse.

She had to laugh at his ironic choice of words, and exclaimed, "Cheeky devil!"

"Definitely red, then," he joked. "They do say it's the color of strength, willpower, courage..."

"Ever had your aura read? Buy an actual aurologist?"

"No, but... perhaps I oughta give it a go." He paused. "Would you care to accompany me? Next weekend, for instance?"

The implication wasn't lost on her; he was asking for a second date. And she felt that she would enjoy getting her aura read with Cross. He was fun, easy to talk to, they'd had a good time tonight...

But one date was casual and friendly. Even two was still testing the waters. Any more than that, however, and they were dating, moving farther away from "friends" and into "couple" territory. She genuinely liked him, but did she want to be his girlfriend?

Any other female in the castle would've jumped at the opportunity, but Callie's feet were on the ground.

She'd been quiet long enough for his confidence to wane. "I... didn't mean to be presumptuous," he said.

"No, it's all right," she replied. "I had a lot of fun tonight." A pause. "And I like you. But..." She wanted to let him down in the gentlest way. "I just got out of a... semi-significant relationship. I thought I was over him, but... as it turns out, I'm not." That last part was a lie; she wasn't terribly upset about her breakup with Ewan anymore, but Cross didn't have to know that.

"Ah," he muttered, dropping his eyes to the ground. "I know how that can be."

"I'm sorry," she said, a pained expression on her face. She really hated rejecting people.

But he looked up at her and said, "No need to be sorry. I got to spend the evening with a beautiful woman, have a few laughs." Shooting her a soft smile, he concluded, "All in all, it's been a good night."

Callie returned his smile and glanced up at the castle. "Would you walk me to my door?" she joked.

He hesitated for a moment, pretending to consider it, then held his hand out for her to take.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

There was a knock on the Defense teacher's office door, and he lifted his wand to open it. Warbeck sauntered in with a dreamy look on her face and announced, "I'm going to marry him and have his babies." Severus rolled his eyes as she took a seat across from him. "I'm thinking a spring wedding. It is the time for new beginnings."

She wasn't the type to behave in such an idiotic way over a bloke, so he figured that either Cross had slipped her a love potion, or she was screwing with him. "Was he worth the frostbitten legs and sore feet?" he asked.

She kicked off the heels and pulled a compact mirror out of her purse. "I've also got mascara in my eye," she said, checking it out. "It's been bugging me for an hour."

"Pain is beauty," he said sarcastically.

"I envy menfolk," she remarked. "You lot don't have to do anything special or torturous. Just shower and go." Replacing the compact, she went on, "And even the dirty, ragged, unshaven look is still sexy, depending on who it is." A moment of silence passed, and Severus kept his attention on the lesson plan he was preparing. "You're not even a little bit curious?" Warbeck asked.

"In regards to what?" he replied, not looking up.

"About whether Cross and I will be walking hand-in-hand along the corridors from now on."

Yes, he was mildly curious, but what difference did it make? As long as her new beau wasn't likely to kill her, it was no concern of his.

When he didn't respond, she said, "Well, he's a real catch. I could do a lot worse." She paused before continuing, "But it occurred to me at the end of the night that I'm not particularly keen on field-playing or oat-sowing at the moment. I've got more enthusiasm for self-inflicted torture." In a flippant tone, she asked, "You don't think there's something abnormal about me, do you?"

"I've always suspected it," Severus said. His expression was blank, but inside he was smiling to himself. He really hadn't cared to see her and Cross being lovey-dovey with each other, exchanging looks across the room, or to catch the man sneaking into her quarters at night.

And once again, he didn't want to have to share his only friend with anyone else.

"I got something," Warbeck said, picking up a shopping bag and pulling out a gold and purple board with the alphabet printed on it. "It's a ouija board."

Severus furrowed his brow and asked, "What the hell is that?"

She set it on his desk and explained, "It's a thing muggles use to try and communicate with the spirit world." She also took out a heart-shaped object with a hole it in, and placed it upon the board. "You put your fingers on the planchette, ask a question, and the planchette either moves to 'yes' or 'no' or spells out the answer."

"This is a muggle device?" Severus asked. It sounded like an enchanted object.

"Yes, but it's a crock. You're supposed to do it in a group, and there's always one trickster who pushes the planchette around and claims that it was going on its own. I had one when I was a kid. Of course, I didn't have to move it with my hands." She stared down at the planchette, and after a moment it began to travel across the board of its own volition, spelling out B-O-O. Warbeck smiled to herself and said, "Scared the hell out of my muggle friends with that one."

Severus muttered under his breath, "Wicked lass."

Gesturing to the board, Warbeck said, "Go on and ask it a question."

"What's the point? You said that it's a crock."

"Oh, just play along, why don't you?" Again she set her eyes on the planchette, and it spelled out, Talk to me.

Severus hesitated, then decided to humor her. Leaning over the board, he asked, "Is Calista Warbeck psychologically unwell?"

"Hmph," she smirked, and focused on the planchette.

S-H-O-V-E-O-F-F

She lifted her eyes to meet his, and he remarked, "Cute."

"I've got one. Is Freddie Cross my soul mate?"

Severus took it upon himself to answer that one.

I-M-P-O-S-S-I-B-L-E

"Why is that impossible?" Warbeck asked.

Y-O-U-A-R-E-S-O-U-L-L-E-S-S

"Oh," she said. "Of course."

The Defense teacher raised a brow and asked, "Are we through playing make-believe?"

She gave it a moment of thought and replied, "One more. What color is my aura?"

He hadn't been prepared for that, but he knew what each of the basic colors signified. Going over them all in his head, he chose what he thought was most likely.

Y-E-L-L-O-W

Her reaction was unexpected; she looked as if she'd just seen a ghost. "Are you playing with me?" she asked.

"No?" It was more of a question than a statement. Why was his answer unbelievable to her?

"You can't see it, can you?"

"No. It was an educated guess."

"And you guessed yellow?"

"It fits you."

Giving him a skeptical look, she asked, "In what way?"

He summoned a book that he had on the subject and flipped to the relevant section. "Those with a yellow-dominant aura," he read, "are charismatic, social, and engaging, having the ability not only to attract, but inspire and motivate others. Yellow-dominants exude confidence and possess a strong sense of self. Other characteristics associated with a yellow aura include playfulness, high intellect, spiritual awakening, and a desire to achieve greatness."

The potions mistress was quiet for a moment as she took all that in. "That's how you see me?" she asked.

"It isn't a matter of opinion," he replied, "but my objective observations."

She sat back and folded her arms across her chest, both amusement and self-satisfaction in the smile that spread across her face. "Charismatic," she said. "High intellect. Able to attract and inspire others."

"As well as arrogant, foolhardy, and bordering on madness," he cut in.

"Well, nobody's perfect." She replaced the ouija board, then stood up and nodded to the book. "Can I borrow that?"

He handed it over and said, "Keep it. Aurology is nonsense."

"Hmph." As she grabbed up her shoes and started off, she remarked, "Killjoy."